Goodbyes Are Never Easy

Thank you to everyone who adopts from shelters or rescue organizations! You truly are making a huge difference for animals and your community. I’ve spent the past two months getting an inside view of a shelter and the incredibly dedicated and caring people who work there. It’s opened my heart in ways I never imagined.

I was always afraid of shelters. I wanted to adopt through rescue organizations, but I also wanted to avoid looking into the eyes of dogs in cages, hearing their cries, knowing they all needed a home, and having to choose only one.

Then through a series of events, I found myself fostering kittens for Animal Services.  I realized that all the love and attention I gave the kittens made them great pets for others. I felt as though I was helping my community doing something I enjoyed.

The kitten experience was so much fun I decided to foster puppies. Now, I’ve always been more of a cat person, but somehow I thought I’d be perfect to take in a mama and her seven pups. I mostly work from home. They’d be good company. I had this vision of me sitting at my computer, working on my novel while seven little puppies romped around the room. That’s not quite what happened.

Holding the pups and watching them grow brought tremendous joy to my day. However, caring for them was a full-time job! I didn’t know what I was doing. I resorted back to the days when my kids were infants. I put the pups on a schedule, played classical music while they napped, checked on them constantly, and cleaned like I’ve never cleaned in my life! My days were consumed by seven adorable furbabies.

When they reached eight weeks I knew it would soon be time for them to leave. Part of me was longing for a break and the other part of me wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Then came the dreaded day.  I watched as each puppy was carried away. I thought of six weeks earlier, the first time I saw them. So tiny I could hold them in my palm. At eight weeks they were already ten pounds.  And then there was Browney. Sweet Browney who I’d grown extremely attached to but knew I couldn’t adopt.  She and my cats never became friends. Leaving Browney behind was even harder than the puppies because I knew the puppies would be adopted quickly.

On the way to the shelter, Browney didn’t stick her head out the window to breathe the fresh air. She laid her head on the console next to my arm. Her heart was hurting too. She had lost her pups and now she was losing me and her home for six weeks. My already broken heart was crumbling. I had set out to do good, to help, I didn’t feel as though I was doing any good on that day. I felt guilty, confused, and hurt.

I watched as she looked at me through the glass door. She cocked her head to the side, and her eyes said, “Where are you going? I want to come too.” During our past six weeks together she rarely let me out of her sight. I climbed in my car and drove away  feeling a sadness that was eight holes deep. That night when I went to bed, I looked for Browney. I remembered. The pain was great.

I’ve thought of Browney every day since. Her pups remind me of her. Roscoe has her inquisitive nature and Smudge her gentleness. I went to see Browney at Gulf Coast Humane Society. I wasn’t sure if I could manage another goodbye. I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Keeping a distance felt safer. My old fear of shelters had returned. I went anyway. Browney  saw me and charged, nearly knocking me over. She greeted me with excitement and kisses. I had missed her so. Being with her helped heal the pain. She had a playfulness now that I had only had glimpses of before because when she was with me she was a busy mom. Now she could be the pup. We spent an hour together. Spending time at the shelter, talking to the people who worked there, watching the volunteers, seeing everyone who had come to adopt, made me focus on the positive. Here were loving, caring people making a difference for homeless pets.  I knew I had done the right thing. I realized that avoiding the pain of goodbye or the pain of seeing so many animals who needed homes didn’t mean the pain wasn’t there. It was. It haunted me. Choosing to face that pain, choosing to love even if I knew my heart would hurt was freeing. I walked out of the shelter with hope. My heart had been opened with a love that had previously been closed by fear. I felt grateful for all those caring people who loved animals as much as me.

Will I ever foster again? Yes. One day. The benefit of the love and joy animals bring far outweighs the pain of goodbye.

Browney is still at the shelter waiting along with many other cats, dogs, and some rabbits. I know the perfect family for Browney is out there. If you’re thinking about adding to your family, please consider visiting a shelter. If you’re looking for a one-year-old, house trained, intelligent, playful, pup and you don’t have any cats, please consider Browney. She’s waiting. Contact Gulf Coast Humane Society.

And if you’re not able to adopt I know the shelters are always in need of volunteers. Your heart and the animals will thank you.